Page 72 of Stripping the Sub
Ellie was spending every Thursday, Friday, and Saturday night at the club now, even though she and Michael only played on Fridays. That gave them Thursday to flirt and anticipate and Saturday to just hang out at the bar with their friends. Although hanging out was slowly turning into something more like cuddling and flirting.
She didn’t have a moment of panic either, although she had occasional bouts of anxiety. Often, Michael helped her turn those aside with a simple touch of his hand on hers. Sometimes she’d shift about and the marks he’d left on her would flare to life or her ass would throb around the plug in it, and her issues would be derailed for another night.
So when he offered to pick her up and take her to Angel and Adam’s for Sunday afternoon football, she actually didn’t think twice before she accepted. Their relationship had slowly but surely moved outside of the club and she was enjoying it.
The air was crisp, but it was a nice enough day that she waited for him on the steps of her apartment building rather than inside. It really didn’t have anything to do with not wanting him up near her space, although the thought had occurred to her too. Hopefully, he wouldn’t see it that way.
The grin he gave her when his car pulled up and she came skipping down the steps towards the passenger door said he didn’t think twice about it. “So,” he said as she got in and pulled the door shut. “Are you ready for some football?”
Ellie laughed and pointed to the Redskins jersey she was wearing. The number on it had sequins sewn on and it wasnotan official jersey.She’d gotten it at Victoria’s Secret.“Don’t I look ready?”
“I can’t tell if Hilary and Jessica are going to love your jersey or find it sacrilegious,” he said, shaking his head as he pulled out of the parking lot. Reaching over, he slid his fingers through hers, her hand settling naturally into his. At this point, being with him and not holding hands felt unnatural.
They’d come a long way from this time last year when she’d been avoiding him at the club.
“Why sacrilegious?”
“Because it’s sparkly, not a real jersey, and they’re weirdly serious about football.”
Michael’s statement turned out to be a bit of an understatement. Compared to him, she kind of figured anyone could be called serious about football, but he had not been exaggerating. Any impression Ellie had ever had of Jessica being quiet or Hilary being a total prude went right out the window listening to the stream of curses, orders, and screaming demands which were hurled at the television. And that was only the first ten minutes of the game.
She and Michael fled back upstairs to where the more sane members of society were hanging out in the kitchen, eating Justin’s snacks as they came out of the oven. The cook in question looked up to see them emerging from the basement and laughed.
“Loud, aren’t they?” he asked, dark eyes sparkling with mirth. Sitting across from him at the kitchen bar were Olivia, Rick, and Maria, all of them far more interested in Justin’s cooking than in the game downstairs.
“And I always thought Angel was bad,” Michael joked as he and Ellie joined the others at the kitchen bar, watching Justin deftly slice herbs and then sprinkle them on top of the bruschetta he was making.
“Yeah, but Angel’s always loud, Jessica and Hilary lull you into a false sense of calm before perforating your ear drums,” Rick said, dipping a tortilla chip in Justin’s homemade salsa before pushing the dishes down the counter towards Ellie and Michael.
“Where’s Patrick?” Ellie wanted to know.
The talks with Luke about coming on as a partner for Marquis were going really well and Patrick had invited him to come hang out with the others today. Not that he needed to be friends with all of them, but since many of them would be helping out at Marquis initially, Michael and Patrick wanted Luke to meet them, preferably in neutral territory. Stronghold, where all the Doms felt the need to maintain their authority, wasn’t really the best place. Ellie suspected the real reason for the more casual ‘meeting’ was because of the contemplative redhead sitting at the other end of the kitchen bar, staring off into space.
Although as soon as Ellie asked the question, Olivia’s focus immediately shifted to her. The Domme was wearing a black button down shirt, neatly tailored to her curves, with the sleeves rolled up, making her look much less casual than everyone else. Which was probably deliberate, since she knew Patrick was bringing Luke today. Ellie was curious and eager to meet him after hearing so much about him, whereas Olivia looked like she was preparing for a confrontation. She was obviously uneasy with the idea of a new partner in the club, especially one she hadn’t ever met and who hadn’t met her.
Which Ellie could understand.
Patrick and Michael deeply respected Olivia, as well as trusted her, and the same went for her. An unknown entity might upset the delicate balance the dominants had achieved of respecting each other’s authority and not stepping on each other’s toes.
“Not here yet,” Olivia said in clipped tones.
Maria widened her eyes at Ellie, as if telling her not to open that particular bread basket.
Well, okay then. Ellie was definitely not interested in poking at an on edge Domme. Beside her, Michael gave a kind of resigned sigh, but the expression on his face was one of amusement. He’d told her a lot about Luke, and it was obvious he liked the guy, who had turned out to be pretty easy going even if he was just as confident and self-assured as Patrick or Michael. He also found Olivia’s general displeasure over the situation amusing. He’d bet Patrick five dollars Olivia would relax and start treating Luke like one of the guys by the end of this afternoon.
Looking at Olivia now, Ellie was having a hard time picturing Michael winning the bet.
“Do you guys need something to drink?” Justin asked as he finished sprinkling green slivers of herbs on the bruschetta. “I’ve got sangria and beer in the fridge.”
“Ooo, sangria sounds great,” Ellie said immediately, as Michael asked for a beer.
The sangria was more than great, it was probably the best sangria she’d ever had. White wine, with just a bit of fizz to it, with pieces of peaches, strawberries, and blueberries floating in it. Even the fruit fizzed when she bit into it, proving it had been soaking up the alcohol for quite a while already.
Leaning against Michael, joining in on the conversation, and laughing at the occasional catcalls and shouts which drifted up from the basement, Ellie relaxed - and ignored the little voice in the back of her head reminding her she wasn’t really Michael’s girlfriend and none of this was real.
******
Something was troubling Ellie, but Michael didn’t know what or how to fix it.
